Revisting Superman
by The Noble French Fry
Summary: Superman's friend Caitlin O'Conner is in Metropolis after 11 years of separation and a decade 'incommunicado.' Fortunately for us but unfortunately for him, she has secrets for Clark Kent and Superman alike. ['Shaping Superman' sequel]
1. Different

**Disclaimer: K, I don't own it. You should know that already... :D (But hey, I do own Caitlin, Lexi, Olivia, Jessica, Kelsey, Michele, etc.)**

**Rating: PG**

**Reason: Violence**

**Genres: Action/Adventure, Drama, Supernatural (hello, it's about SUPERHEROES!)**

**Setting: Metropolis, 11 years after the close of Shaping Superman (concievably the year 2014, I guess)**

**A/N: Ok, finally, it's here. I'm so _very_ sorry it took so long everyone... Real life pounced on me in the form of a sleepover that took me out of commission for about 2 & 1/2 days... Don't ask! And of course the unsolved problem ofhow to get rid of school... :D**

**Anyway, it gets moving very fast, and goes nowhere at first, but that's because it's a _sequel_, so... Anyway, enjoy and _review_!

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**Dedications: Ok, to who else could this be dedicated but my faithful readers and reviewers, and to the great Quartet of friends who support me always and forever?

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**Revisiting Superman**

**C**lark Kent had a good life. He couldn't in any way deny that, with his good job at the largest newspaper in Metropolis as a star reporter, his fairly decent social life, and even his secret career as a superhero ran smoothly. Everything moved happily along without hindrance, nice and smooth.

Actually, his current story for the _Daily Planet_ was easy itself too: a report on Superman's heroics as of late.

Clark had no one to ask about the incidents in question either, he being the perpetrator.

As he was scribbling out a few quick notes, the doorbell to his apartment rang.

_Now who could that be? _Clark thought, glancing at the door. He would have used his X-ray vision to see right through, but some odd reason at the corner of his mind kept him from doing so. Aloud, he called, "Just a second, please!" as he finished jotting down his notes.

He finished the last word, dropped his pen and opened the door.

Standing there was a very tall, thin woman with a sharp, not-quite-pretty face characterized by full lips, a long, wide nose and round eyes. The eyes themselves bespoke an unthinkable depth and in that profundity an almost unrealized pain. Her hair was long, pure black and straight, gracing her form all the way to the elbows. The compounded darkness of the hair and eyes would have made her seem Hispanic, if not for the mild skin tone and blunt features.

"Hello, how may I—" He started when the woman offered a light smile.

And the smile broke through all appearance barriers that had been naturally erected over the course of eleven years' time and sparked Clark's memory.

"Oh, my—"

"Nice to see you too, Clark," she said dryly, the corner of her mouth quirking upward into a wry half-smile. "Eleven years later, and all I get is, 'How may I—Oh, my—'?"

"Oh, my—" Clark started to repeat when he caught himself and his guest lifted an eyebrow. "Sorry. I'm so glad to see you again, Caitlin!"

"Now, that's more like it," said Caitlin O'Conner, stepping forward to take Clark into a light-hearted hug. After releasing him, she offered another raised brow and said, "Are you just going to have me wait here all day, or am I allowed inside?"

"Oh, sorry, come in," Clark said, stepping aside and gesturing his old friend inside.

Old friend. Wow.

It had been eleven years since he'd seen Caitlin, ten and a half since he'd last spoken with her. They'd kept talking for about six or seven months after Caitlin returned to Florida, but after that, Clark had been completely unable to get a hold of her. It was abrupt: no slow decrease in the number of calls, letters and emails. Come to think of it, the end of it all had come not long after the beginning of their senior year in high school.

But that was then. Maybe he'd get a chance to ask her.

Caitlin entered; her keen eyes immediately took in the simple décor of his apartment, neat and orderly, save the mess of a desk at which he'd been working. For a moment, she offered no comment, then said, "Neat and tidy, just like you, farmboy."

Clark smiled as he gestured her towards the couch, taking a chair opposite it for himself.

"Sparse and simple too," she continued as she sat gently down on the couch. "I guess that small-town upbringing follows you to the city, huh?"

He smiled again at the truth to the words. "Speaking of 'the city,' what brings you to Metropolis?"

"Business," Caitlin said dismissively.

"What kind of business?" he asked. Maybe she was here as Psyche-Out—this is what he suspected it was—but maybe she was here for normal business… Whatever that was for her.

"Well, I'm the editor, co-author and co-owner of a teen magazine in Florida," she said, smiling as though she were tremendously proud of that announcement. "It's actually really popular all over the south… Florida, Georgia and Alabama mostly. It's called 'Living in the Son'—that's S-O-N, mind you—and gives teens advice and the latest scoop on everything. Me and the rest of the board are here trying to get a Metropolis company to print it for the mid-west."

"Oh," Clark said. "Why is it 'S-O-N'?"

Caitlin offered a light smile. "Christian teen magazine. S-O-N of God… get it?"

"Yeah," he replied, choosing to politely ignore the religious content. "You think there's a chance of getting it printed out here too?"

"Actually, yeah, I think so. I think that after Metropolis, we're going to tackle New England, maybe go national."

"Ah," was all Clark could say.

He'd always suspected that Caitlin would have success for whatever she put her mind to—she was that smart all around and that driven to succeed.

Rather consciously, she glanced at a watch and was apparently shocked by its information. "Whoa, sorry to dash out like this, but I have to run, Clark." She was off the couch before finishing her sentence.

"So soon?" he asked, reluctantly rising too.

"Yes… Magazine board meeting in twenty minutes across town."

Clark opened the door, but held her back for a moment. "How long are you in Metropolis?" he asked, hopeful that she wouldn't just run off and be lost to him again.

"Four more days, following today," Caitlin answered with a smile. "And if you're open, you should meet me for dinner."

"Sure, I'm free," Clark said. Really, he had no plans at all for tonight, save a patrol as Superman, and he could do that _with_ Caitlin after dinner.

"Seven o'clock at Alessandro's," she said, naming an Italian restaurant in downtown Metropolis. "Don't be late. And the rest of the board members will probably be there too."

Clark smiled. "I'll be there."

Returning the smile, Caitlin moved past him and out into the hall. Over her shoulder, she said, "See you then, Mr. Kent."

----

The day passed extremely quickly for Clark, and seven o'clock found him walking the sidewalks of downtown Metropolis towards the restaurant sooner than he expected. He was running about five minutes late to get to Alessandro's, but that was alright. Caitlin was patient.

The restaurant was a semi-popular one these days, and he found a small line trailing out the door when he got there. He bypassed the whole line, noticing that Caitlin wasn't waiting. Soon enough, the stewardess was leading him to her table.

He put a smile on, half expecting to see her sitting at a table with two or three heavy-set, balding men. Instead, he was treated to the view of now-dark-haired Caitlin with four other women that he recognized after a moment.

Right beside Caitlin was Jessica, looking for the most part the same. Next to Jessica sat Kelsey, darker haired than before and a much more mature face, beginning to show smile lines. Beside Kelsey was Olivia, with definite darker tresses, almost jet black ringlets and her now lack of freckles. After Olivia was Lexi, also dark-haired, though not as much as the others. Her face still retained its roundness and soft features, only intensified and made the more beautiful by age.

And then between Caitlin and Lexi was an open chair, apparently for him.

Clark was surprised at how all of the previous blondes and light brunettes had become dark-haired beauties, especially how much Caitlin had changed. She looked so much different than she had eleven years ago that Clark had trouble placing her as the same person...

"Hey, there, Clark!" Jessica was first to say.

After that, all of the others took notice of him and echoed various hellos.

_Odd_, Clark thought, hiding a frown behind a big smile. Caitlin was the telepathic one, yet she hadn't been first to pick up on his presence?

That was Clark's first clue that something in this whole ordeal just wasn't right.

"Are you gonna stand there all day, smiling like an idiot?" Caitlin asked, smiling lightly herself. "Maybe you're waiting for an open invitation... Well, if that's what you want, you're going to die standing on that spot!"

Clark chuckled as he took his seat between Lexi and Caitlin.

"So, what happened to me 'meeting the board' tonight?" Clark asked Caitlin pointedley.

Caitlin smiled as she returned, "You are. Girls, your column genres, please?"

"Fashion trends," Jessica said. "My degree in fashion designing wasn't for nothing!"

"Music," said Olivia. "What's clean, what's not."

"I cover sports—mostly extreme ones, considering our working enviroment," Kelsey supplied.

"Gossip is mine," Lexi said. When several eyebrows were raised at her—Clark's in particular—she quickly added, "Dispelling rumors, really."

"Oh," Clark said. "So you all managed not only to start up a highly successful magazine, but to do it with your four closest friends! How wonderful!"

Five bright smiles were reflected back at him. He noticed sort of unconsciously that Caitlin's was sort of dim and forced, as if it were a door with hinges that had rusted with unuse.

"So, what has Clark Kent done with his life?" asked Jessica. "We're all wondering."

Clark glanced at Caitlin, asking mentally why she hadn't told her friends. She'd taught him the asking technique a decade previous, sort of a way of communcating silently. But now, she didn't seem to notice.

Though it went ignored, this was Clark's second clue that something was wrong.

"Well, I got my degree in journalism from Central Kansas University six years ago," he said after that moment's hesitation. "I sort of worked my way up the pyramid till I got a job at the _Daily Planet_ two years ago as an investigative reporter. I've managed to hold it down well enough."

"Well enough?" Caitlin echoed disbelievingly. "I got the impression you were one of two star reporters. From everything I've seen so far, you're a mini-celebrity."

Clark felt his face flush slightly as he smiled weakly.

"Oh, is that so?" Olivia said. "Congratulations, Clark."

At that moment, the waitress strode over, apparently noticing for the first time that the newest member had joined the table. "Sir, are you ready to order?" she asked with an authentic Italian slant to her words.

Clark ordered from memory, causing raised brows around the table.

"Come here often?" Caitlin asked.

"Fairly often," he answered as the waitress hurried off.

"What, no lady friend to make you dinner?" joked Lexi.

Clark found himself blushing, but he answered. "Unfortunately, yes. No lady-friend, as you say."

"Clark Kent, good-looking Kansas farm boy turned big city journalist's all alone?" Olivia asked with an underlying jest of humor in her description of Clark.

He nodded, trying not to but blushing more at Olivia's words. Lois Lane couldn't be counted, as he wasn't really involved with her, despite his subtle attempts.

At his affirmation, various mischievous smiles appeared veiled around the table, except for Caitlin, who seemed very nonchalant about the whole conversation.

"Just haven't found a good woman, or aren't looking?" Jessica asked.

Caitlin cut in to spare Clark any more embarassment. "Hey, no more about Clark's love life. Not everyone's engaged before age thirty like you, Jess."

Clark gave her a questioning look, to which Jessica smiled brightly and lifted her left hand. On her finger gleamed a bright silver engagement ring.

"Congratulations," Clark offered. "Who's the lucky man?"

"Nathan Nelson," Jessica answered. "He's our magazine printer liason."

"Jess found her pretty boy early on," Kelsey sneered jokingly. "She started dating him soon after we employed Nathan to run errands back and forth to the printers. On their two year anniversary a couple months ago, he proposed. They're going to be married this fall."

"Congratulations again," Clark said to Jessica.

"Thanks," Jessica accepted.

"So, what big has happened in your lives?" Clark asked as the waitress sat a plate down in front of him. "Except for your whole magazine deal."

The life stories went around the table, starting with Lexi.

"Nothing huge has happened with me yet, except the whole magazine deal," she said after a bite of her pasta. "I mean, I'm only twenty-four. What big should have happened yet?"

"Your graduation from college?" Caitlin supplied.

"Oh, well, it was nothing spectacular," Lexi replied, looking at Clark. "I got my general 'Associate of Arts' from a community college. That's all."

Clark nodded.

Olivia went next. "I also got a general AA from a community college. Nothing really fundemental's happened for me either. I've got the career going in the magazine, but I work small-time singing and writing songs."

"Oh, that's interesting," Clark said.

"She does it small-time, but she does it well," Jessica input. "She wrote a couple of pretty big ones in the countemporary Christian genre."

"'Course nobody really knows that…" Olivia trailed, looking at her food.

"They will someday," Caitlin said, smiling.

Olivia gave a smile to the whole table.

"Ok, I just _had_ to go and copy them and get a general AA from the _same_ community college too," Kelsey said next, exaggeratedly rolling her eyes. "Olivia made it sound like so much fun." She smiled and winked at Olivia. "But other than that, I just work on the 'zine, skateboard and surf."

"Do you compete?" Clark asked.

"Oh, only locally. State-wide sometimes, but mostly just locally."

Clark nodded.

Next was Jessica. "Now, unlike them, I stuck it out in a state university," she said proudly. "I got my Bachelor's Degree from Florida State University the year after we started publishing the 'zine—and we've had the 'zine for four years. I majored in fashion-designing and still use those skills for my column. And then of course, there's the engagement…"

"So is Jessica the only one that picked a serious career other than the magazine?" Clark asked Caitlin. "Or did you do something else?"

At first, Caitlin just smiled widely at him.

"Oh, she's done plenty!" the others answered in her stead.

To his inquistive look, Caitlin finally answered.

"Well, like I planned, I graduated at sixteen—the year after my family left Smallville," she started. "My mom didn't want me to run off to a real university that early, so I had to stick around and get a generalized AA from the community college." Olivia, Lexi and Kelsey joined Caitlin on saying community college, implying it was the same one they'd attended. Caitlin smiled faintly at this before continuing. "But after those two years, I went on to get my Bachelor's in what else but _journalism_ from where else but _Harvard University_."

That almost made Clark choke. Yes, Caitlin was brilliant, but who would have thought that the smalltown girl would've made it to the country's most presigious college? "Wow," he said.

"Yeah, wow," Caitlin said, grinning. "And after I graduated, I couldn't stand the big city anymore, so I got on back to Florida. Twenty years old, a Harvard degree in a smalltown, no job. It took a little while, but I landed editor of the 'Nassau News'—our county's largest weekly newspaper. A year later, we started publishing _Living in the Son_ monthly, and I still held on to the editor position. I've been working both jobs since, and actually got a few books published in my free time."

"In your free time?" Clark asked. "You're holding down two big jobs that some might call careers, and you decide to publish books in your 'free time'? You make it sound like nothing!"

"She's that way," Jessica said.

"Accomplishing double that of the average person in half the time," Olivia agreed.

"And making it sound like nothing," Kelsey finished.

"So your books, should I have heard of them?" Clark asked Caitlin.

"Well, the first was sort of a teenager self-help book about social life," Caitlin replied. "It wasn't terribly huge, but fairly popular."

"And what about others?" asked Clark. "You said books, plural."

"The other one was a sci-fi book," Caitlin answered. "It spent quite a while on the _New York Times_ Bestseller list, and actually while I'm here in Metropolis, I'm working with the publishing company to get the sequel out."

Clark's eyebrows rose. "Really? I read sci-fi sometimes… Why haven't I heard of it?"

"Pseudonym," Caitlin answered.

"People don't really want to buy science fiction from a woman who writes self-help books and articles," Jessica explained. "So she adopted a pseudonym for her better work."

"So, what's the name?" Clark asked.

"You've probably heard of 'A. M. Bell'," Caitlin said with a smile.

It didn't take long for Clark to remember the name and the book. "Yes!" he said. "I read 'Desperate Fugitive' and loved it!"

Caitlin smiled.

"You'll be happy to know she's about to get the sequel, 'World of Hostility', out soon," Lexi said.

"Yes, very happy indeed," Clark said, looking at Caitlin.

She'd accomplished so very much from everything he was being told… But yet, there was just something about her now that seemed off-center, tilted in a wrong and problematic direction. She was the same person, but something about her was just… not Caitlin.

But Clark didn't really consciously notice this until later.

----

Caitlin entered her hotel room with a heavy, heartfelt sigh.

It was great to see Clark again, and to know that he was doing well, and was getting along with the great things that she'd helped him into so long ago. But besides being great, it was so very, very frustrating.

Caitlin knew that Clark Kent was "Superman," America's superhero. She'd guessed it for some time now.

And with him being that great superhero, it was hard for her in her current condition.

She couldn't stand to tell him, but she knew that somehow, her truth would make it out.

Caitlin would be seeing Clark again tomorrow, and if he had anything to say about it, she'd see him every one of the four remaining days that she'd be in Metropolis.

In that time, her pained truth would have to come out.

"Hey, need someone to talk to?"

The voice would have made Caitlin jump had she not recognized it from years of friendship as Olivia's.

She turned to see her best friend standing just in front of the door, a sympathetic look framing her face.

"Yeah, Livs. I do."

Olivia smiled compassionately as she sat down on the edge of the bed. "Clark's got you down, doesn't he? It's hard for you to see him again, Cait. I can tell."

Caitlin sighed. "Yes, it's Clark. Very hard for me to see him."

"Don't worry, everything will be alright."

"I wish I could agree," Caitlin said, sighing. "But I know he's going to be disappointed in me, and I don't want that riding around with me."

"Hey, how could he be disappointed in you? You were always everything he wanted to be, and you're the embodiment of success, Caitlin."

Trying to hold back the beginning of tears, Caitlin sighed again. "But I'm not everything he wanted to be anymore, Livs. And he's going to be disappointed."

"Hey, don't worry."

"I only wish I couldn't," Caitlin said, turning to look out of her window at Metropolis's skyline. "I only wish. I only wish."


	2. Secrets

_**K, sorry this took ssssooooooooooooooo long, but I'm trying, trying, trying! I just want to say before this starts that there will be 5 chapters to this story, one for each day Caitlin's in Metropolis.**_

_**This is day 2 and chapter 2... Today, Caitlin's got some huge things to tell Clark, and she also has a few people to meet and see again... :D

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**Secrets**

The Metropolis morning dawned bright and early for Caitlin. Her clock read six fifteen when she rolled out of bed and opened her hotel room's curtains to look down and out across the metropolis of Metropolis.

Streets full of hustle and bustle, people moving and hurrying along for only God knew what at this hour, angry drivers honking at each other in a small traffic jam… Oh, how she hated the city life!

Once, she'd been able to appreciate the compound of having so many people living in such tight quarters and the freely moving minds and thought processes of each, but that had been lost to time and circumstance. She could no longer see the glory in having so many people living so close together.

She sighed as she watched people move around below.

Had circumstance not forced her to, she could still appreciate this…

_Regrets are useless to you, Caitlin_, she told herself quietly. _There's no reason for you to ever go back on what you were, there's no reason for you to regret what happened. What's done is done, and you cannot change it. Time will not allow you to go back, and why would you ever go back?_

"Because I miss that life," she whispered the answer to her own question. "But I will not go back."

Again, she sighed.

And she vowed to herself that today, no matter what conspired against her, she would tell Clark Kent this secret that was looming inside of her, pestering her to reach his ears. He would hear that—

----

Clark wasn't surprised when Caitlin showed up at his desk at the Daily Planet, but he was rather surprised when she showed up at about eight o'clock, as opposed to the eleven they'd agreed upon. He was caught off-guard, but he recovered quickly.

"Oh, hello, Caitlin!" he said, springing up with a genuine smile. "You're early."

That rusty-seeming smile from last night appeared on Caitlin's face again. "Early bird gets the worm, though, right?" Abruptly, her humor died. "But I have something important to tell you, and I didn't want time to force me to lose my nerve."

Clark's eyes widened and for a moment, he floundered around for words. Finally, he settled on taking his seat again, and saying, "Go ahead."

"Well…" Caitlin started, taking a deep breath.

She was cut off by a medium-height blonde woman bursting through the doors of Clark's office "cubicle," triumphantly waving a stack of papers high overhead. At first, she took no notice of the room's other occupant, brightly exclaiming her success.

"I got it, Clark, I finally got it!" she pronounced. "I got what I needed and the latest edition of my column's going to sell better than ever!"

"Con—" he started when the newcomer finally took notice of Clark's guest.

For a moment, she frowned in concentration, then her face lit up with pure joy. "Oh, my gosh, Caitlin!" Michele exclaimed with wide eyes as she hurried towards the taller woman, arms open wide.

Caitlin accepted and returned the hug tightly, bobbing back and forth with Michele in her delight. It was a long moment before the two released and held each other at arm's length for inspection.

Caitlin looked satisfied that Michele was still the medium-heighted, bright green-eyed blonde, only more mature. Michele on the other hand looked bewildered that Caitlin wasn't a tall, thin, youthful blonde anymore, but raven-haired and appeared aged beyond her years. And Michele noticed what Clark didn't in the fact that Caitlin wasn't quite the same.

"You look different," Michele said to Caitlin. "Very, very different, Catie."

Caitlin smiled as though it were a compliment. "Yet you look pretty much the same. You're the same old bubbly, energetic Michele." She sighed through her teeth. "Yep, same old Michele, just eleven years older. And with a much better job position than being my protégé on the Smallville High Torch, I assume?"

Michele's smile was as wide and bright as the sun. "Of course! I have my own column here at the _Daily Planet_."

Clark watched Caitlin's eyes grow enormous. "You have your own column? Oh, congratulations!"

Clark decided he should input in the conversation before he disappeared off of their radar altogether. "Don't let Caitlin deceive you," he told Michele. "She's got more than her own column. She runs her own paper now. The 'biggest weekly paper in the county,' I believe I heard it described as."

Now Michele's eyes enlarged rapidly. "You're the editor of your own paper?" she asked.

"Yes!" Caitlin exclaimed. "For the past five years!"

"Wow! Congrats!" Michele blurted in return.

"And she's the co-owner, writer and editor of a big teen magazine in the south," Clark input. "And managed to get two books published already, with a third in the works—"

"Ah!" Michele cried. "How did I not know any of this, but Clark did!"

"Sorry," apologized Caitlin. "I got into Metropolis yesterday, and had a dinner with Clark that caught him up on everything. Somehow, he _forgot_ to mention to me that you were around here still." She sent a glare over her shoulder at Clark along the last sentence.

He shrugged.

"Let's say you and me have lunch and catch up?" Michele said happily. "Just come to my desk at twelve. Clark can direct you." She threw a look past Caitlin at her colleague. "That's the least he can do after not telling me that _Caitlin O'Conner_ was in town!"

"Sure, I'll meet you for lunch," Caitlin agreed, joining in giving Clark a glare.

"But now I've gotta run," Michele said, glancing at her watch and ducking back out the door of Clark's office. "Bye!"

"Bye!" Caitlin called after her.

Caitlin's eyes lingered on the space her old friend Michele had just vacated almost longingly, wishing for some reason that Michele would come back, so that she didn't have to bear this conversation.

Clark sat patiently. Caitlin would come back to whatever it was she had to say in her own sweet time.

----

_Alright, you know you have to tell him. Quit dawdling and get to it!_

No matter how much she told herself that she had to, Caitlin was having trouble bringing herself around to telling Clark. She had to, and she knew she did, but… she just couldn't.

Finally, after two minutes that seemed like two hours to Caitlin, she turned around to face Clark. That in itself was her first step past all personal barriers to get to her goal.

He looked up with an expectant glint to his eyes, but also an overbearing patience that told Caitlin she could wait for all eternity and he wouldn't care. She almost decided that she could.

But something inside her, probably her hard inner self that constantly pushed her towards the better instead of the mild norm, snapped and she opened her mouth to utter the words that she so dreaded to speak…

"Clark, I—"

But her words were interrupted by another person bursting through the door to Clark's office. She reflexively whirled on her heels, her sharp instincts only partially dimmed with age.

But it wasn't danger that greeted her, but a small, dark-haired woman with bright blue eyes that were not dimmed by the dark-framed glasses she wore.

"Clark—" She started when she took notice of his guest. "Who are you?" she asked Caitlin.

One of Caitlin's brows rose questioningly. "I should ask you the same question."

"Lois Lane," the woman supplied, thrusting out a hand.

"Caitlin O'Conner," Caitlin replied in turn, shaking Lois's hand.

"Out of towner?" she asked, raising a brow at Caitlin's southern slur.

"Darn straight." Caitlin snorted. "I wouldn't be caught dead living in a city like Metropolis. Give me the honest, hard-working, simple country over the big city any day."

"Oh." Lois Lane crinkled her nose in an unvoiced disgust for the country life. "And you know Clark how?"

"About eleven years ago, me and him both lived in Smallville," Caitlin stated matter-of-factly. "We were pretty close, and I worked on the high school paper with him."

Looking still somewhat skeptical of Caitlin's place in Clark's life, Lois nodded. "Anyway, I wanted to tell you that Mr. White put us both on covering the Justice League press conference this weekend."

Clark nodded. "Thanks, Lois," he said with a sappy smile.

Lois half-smiled and ducked back out the door, leaving Clark and Caitlin alone once more.

"You like her," Caitlin observed. "More than a co-worker, definitely and more than a friend, I think."

Clark blushed brightly in his innocent way. Caitlin didn't expect him to admit to anything verbally, but the blushing told her more than enough.

"Don't let Lois distract you from what you were going to say," he substituted, looking at her expectantly.

After recovering from the shock of Clark being so straightforward, Caitlin was quick to work herself back up to the point of telling him, wary of any more distractions in the form of women who worked with Clark.

"Clark, I have something very important to tell you," she started. Anxiety attacked her again, and she fell silent for a moment.

"Yes?" he prompted gently.

_Go ahead, it can't hurt_, Caitlin silently encouraged herself.

_Oh, but it can!_ another voice inside her retorted.

She forced that part of her mind silent and took a deep breath.

"Clark, this is so hard for me to tell you but… _I'm not Psyche-Out anymore_!" she gushed quickly, glad to have it out, sad that Clark would now be disappointed. "Before you ask," she continued, "it's not temporary. It's not recent. I haven't been Psyche-Out for ten years. Psyche-Out doesn't even exist anymore. She died, I guess you could say."

Clark sat wide-eyed, staring at Caitlin in silent disbelief for long moments.

Eventually, his curiosity overcame his surprise, and he asked a flurry of questions. "Died? Did you lose your powers? How did that happen? Did you get hurt and somehow lose them?"

"No, I could still use them if I wanted," she said, staring at the floor. "I just don't, because I won't. I stopped being Psyche-Out, and she doesn't exist anymore because I made it that way."

"But why?"

"Ten and a half years ago, the media in my area started having a field day printing their various schemes and scandals about Psyche-Out. Always outdoing each other with the incredulities. None were true of course, but that didn't stop them. Story after story, lie after lie they persisted till I'd had it. Finally, they pushed me so hard that I gave up the battle. I stopped defending my honor because I couldn't anymore. I tried to set it up to seem like Psyche-Out died in a battle, but most people didn't really believe it. So I guess she just vanished: _poof!_ So I graduated high school, got my driver's license, started college and quit my secret career all in one year. Two-thousand four was my defining year, and it shaped who I am today. For the first few months, it was hard to sit by and watch things I knew I could stop. But then I found ways of completely forcing myself to be normal. I can't unwilling peek in on anyone's thoughts now. I am a normal person in every sense, except for the abnormal past." She sighed. "And that I wish I could change."

Clark's heart ached with sympathy, Caitlin could tell, but he was also flabbergasted and angry with Caitlin for being so… stupid.

"You know," he said at length, "I always wanted and wished to be normal when I was young. I wanted to give up my powers and be a regular kid. Then you came along and showed me that it was okay to be special, that there was nothing wrong with it. And you just gave all of that up because the public pushed?"

Vision distorted by tears that threatened to spill down her face, Caitlin knew she couldn't stand much more of this. "When the people you serve don't want you anymore, you have no choice but to go."

"I seem to recall a certain girl telling me that, 'You _always_ have a choice. Even though they can bribe you, no one can ever force you,'" he quoted.

Caitlin was surprised that her words had stuck with him through thick and thin over a decade's time, but that was second to her inability to accept her own advice.

"Clark, I'm sorry for what I've done," she cried, voice breaking. "Not because of what it's done to me, because I can get along, special or not, but because of what's it's done to your opinion of me. I'm… so… sorry." She choked out the last sentence between sobs, then turned on her heel and ran out the door of Clark's office unimpeded.

She didn't stop running until she reached her hotel room and flung the door shut and locked behind her.

-----

Clark sat for over an hour silently and unmoving after Caitlin ran out.

How could she?

How dare she?

Why did she?

Why did they?

All of the questions swirled and went unanswered, time itself refusing to whisper the answers to him. No, he'd probably never know, and time itself certainly would not speak the answers no matter how patient he waited.

Reluctantly, he rose to go and tell Michele that Caitlin would probably miss their lunch.

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_**Sorry 'bout that cliffie at the beginning... But I had to! And now REVIEW! I command you:D**_


	3. Amigas

**OMG, so very sorry this all took so long... Turkey Day festivities and such... Anyway, this is a good chappie... Enjoy, and please, leave reviews! It's a crime not to review!

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**

**Amigas**

Olivia was worried. Caitlin, the most responsible person Olivia had ever known, failed to show up for the planned breakfast in the hotel's lobby at eight. At first, she thought that perhaps Caitlin was just tired.

But wasn't Caitlin the one to normally be up before daybreak?

So she politely excused herself from Jessica, Lexi and Kelsey and quickly made her way to Caitlin's room.

She knocked softly on the door. "Cait? Open the door please."

Even after several repetitions, there was no answer. Forced to, she quickly stuck her own keycard into the crack between the frame and the door, prying the automatic lock loose.

Immediately, she saw Caitlin was indeed still lying in the bed, but not asleep. She lay on her back, eyes openly staring at the ceiling, seemingly fascinated. By the pinched look on her face, Olivia could tell that her best friend was engrossed in a mental, none-too-pleasant argument.

"Cait, what's the matter?" she asked lightly, sitting at the foot of the bed.

For long moments, Caitlin didn't answer, just staring at the ceiling where sunlight danced. Eventually, she spoke in a voice that itself told she'd been vocally arguing at some point this past night too. "I have problems, Livs. Big time. Clark's not just disappointed in me anymore. He's mad at me."

"You told him?"

Caitlin forced a laugh. "Oh, yeah, I told him. And it did not go well." She sighed and her eyes filled with unshed tears. "He hates me."

"No, no," Olivia soothed. "He doesn't hate you. No one could hate you."

"He sure looked like it. Dadgumit, I wish I would've used my powers to see what he really thought."

Eyes wide, Olivia was openly shocked. It'd been at least eight years since she'd heard Caitlin say anything about using her powers.

Finally taking her eyes from the ceiling, Caitlin glanced at Olivia with watery eyes. "Yes, Livs. He makes me want to use my powers again. That's what I've been arguing about with myself this whole time. Whether or not to go back."

"Go back?" The surprises kept on.

"I have this nagging feeling that the way I'm living right now is empty," Caitlin speculated, fixing her eyes out the window at the morning sky. "I know I've never been one to turn around and tread on ground already covered, but _he_ makes me want to go back so bad that I'm thinking about it, arguing with myself."

"Have you decided?"

"No, not yet. I mean, I openly told Clark that Psyche-Out was dead and gone. But I think God may be calling her back from the abyss of demise. And despite all my own fears and feelings, that's not a call I can ignore by any means."

"No, of course not."

Caitlin gave a pained sigh. "What do you think, Livs?"

"Well, Cait, there's not much I can say," she replied. "I wasn't the one that gave up the superhero life. All I can say that is if God calls you, you have to go. Don't want to wind up like Jonah in the belly of a whale, do you?"

Smiling lightly, Caitlin shook her head.

A knock on the door interrupted the conversation.

"Hey, can I come in?" Jessica's voice asked from outside the door.

Olivia quickly opened the door and admitted their other friend. Jessica quickly took in Caitlin lying there, and being pretty sharp, she caught what was wrong immediately. She was over at Caitlin's side in an instant.

"Cait, this is Clark's doing, isn't it?"

"I suppose," Caitlin said. "But it's mine too."

Jessica simply nodded. Then she threw a look over her shoulder at Olivia and mouthed, "Can you leave us alone real quick?" Caitlin, staring out the window again, didn't seem to notice.

Olivia quickly excused herself, hopeful that Jessica might work wonders with Caitlin's broken spirit right now in a way she could not.

----

Jessica watched Olivia move out of the room quickly on a very generic excuse. Caitlin's eyes barely tracked her best friend out the door, but Jessica caught the movement.

After the door swung shut, Caitlin gave a light chuckle. "My, my, wasn't she in a hurry?" Her eyes shifted over to Jessica's face. "Why'd you get her out of here like that?"

"I wanted to talk to you alone," Jessica said lightly.

"About what?"

"Michele called," she replied. "She wanted you to come to lunch today, since you missed it yesterday."

"And…?" Caitlin waved a hand around questioningly.

"And I think it'd be a good idea if you went. I think she has things to say that you might want to hear. Cait, I'm asking as a friend that you go for your own good."

Sighing, Caitlin nodded as she sat up. "Sure, I'll go."

"Good," Jessica said, standing up and quickly moving away from the bed. "I already told her you'd go."

"You what?" Caitlin asked, incredulous.

Jessica was already moving out the door.

A thrown pillow punctuated the door swinging shut behind her.

Caitlin just shook her head and muttered, "What caring and nutty friends I have."

-----

Caitlin was looking considerably brighter than she had that morning when she met Michele for lunch. The restaurant was a small but clean diner not far from the building topped by a spinning gold globe and a banner that read _Daily Planet_.

Caitlin felt kind of odd sitting down with the still bubbly woman who had heard second-hand of the major reason that Caitlin O'Conner the woman was not at all like Caitlin O'Conner the teenage girl. But she pushed all oddness of the situation away and flashed her waiting companion a bright smile.

"Hey, Michele," she said, sitting down in the booth.

"Hey, Caitlin," Michele replied, mirroring the bright smile. "I took the liberty of ordering for you already. As good as this place is, they're a little slow."

"Ah." Caitlin paused, unsure how to ask the next question. After a minute, she decided for simplicity without revealing anything. "So… I guess Clark told you… you know."

Biting her lip, Michele nodded. "Yes, he did."

"So… what do you think?"

Michele shook her head. "I'm not sure I know what to think."

"Join the club," Caitlin groused.

"You're not sure about this whole deal?" Michele asked with raised brows.

_Not since that first month of stubborn decision_, she silently thought. Aloud, she was much more ambiguous, not wanting Michele—or anyone else—to know how deep the roots of this painful uncertainty ran into her soul. "Well, is any human really sure about anything they ever do without regrets? I've been wondering about my decision for some time now."

"That tears you up inside, doesn't it?" Michele said.

Pained that somehow, someone had finally noticed, Caitlin quickly averted her eyes. Somehow, her pain was ebbed by not looking in the face of the one who had finally captured Caitlin's actions.

"Cait, it's ok."

So desperately, Caitlin wanted to believe the simple words. But no, it wasn't ok. She knew in her heart-of-hearts that it wasn't ok, and it hadn't been for ten and a half years. She wasn't ok. Her life wasn't ok. Nothing was ok.

She felt the sobs of ten years of repressing herself into the not-quite-ok state choke her and the tears threaten to spill out.

"Oh, no, don't cry," Michele whispered, placing a hand comfortingly on Caitlin's shoulder. "Really, Caitlin, it'll be alright."

Catching herself, Caitlin sucked back the sobs and stopped the tears. "Sorry 'bout the water works, 'Chele."

"It's ok," Michele assured her. "Really."

Caitlin was hasty to change the subject. And the glimmering ring on Michele's finger presented an opportunity. "Oh, you're engaged?"

The smile didn't take long to engulf Michele's face as she presented her hand to Caitlin, happily wriggling her ring finger.

Carefully, Caitlin examined the ring. It was big, silver and sported a center diamond surrounded by other colored stones.

"Who's the lucky man?" Caitlin asked, smiling away any previous sorrow.

"Cameron Williams," Michele replied with a proud smile.

"When's the wedding?"

"We haven't really set a date yet. His job keeps pushing the date back."

Caitlin frowned. "Oh? What _is_ his job?"

"He's a Marine."

"Ah."

Michele's eyes wandered from the table off to a passing waitress on roller-skates. "Ma'am, when will our food be up?"

"Right away, hon," she assured Michele with a heavy Brooklyn accent.

"Diner waitresses," Michele muttered as the woman skated away towards the kitchen, balancing a tray atop her hand. "They think they can call everyone 'hon' and 'doll' because they can rollerskate in short dresses."

Caitlin smiled even as the waitress came gliding back, setting greasy cheeseburgers in front of each of the table's occupants. She skated away without a word.

Picking up a fry, Michele put into her mouth and promptly spat it back out. "Yuuuuck!" she squawked like a two-year old. "Cold fries: my pet-peeve."

Chuckling, Caitlin popped one into her own mouth. Quickly, her nose wrinkled up in disgust. "Gross. They _are_ cold."

"Oh, well. Just have to avoid those."

Caitlin found that she was smiling more in this lunch with Michele than she had in the past ten years. Well, except when her group of friends were involved. They were a laugh-attack just waiting to happen 'round the clock.

"So, 'Chele, I presume you've pretty much kept in contact with everyone from Smallville High," Caitlin prompted. "Or at least those worth keeping track of."

"Pretty much. Who were you wondering about?"

"Firstly, what ever happened to aspiring reporter Chloe Sullivan—or should I say 'evil, attacking weirdo editor lady'?"

"I think it's more of the latter, but she actually wound up at the _Planet_ for a while," Michele said. "But she left for a job in New York a couple years ago. The paper went out business, and so she was back at the _Planet_, asking for a job."

"Oh, the ironies!" exclaimed Caitlin.

A devilish smile appeared on Michele's face. "Oh, no it gets better."

"Keep going then!"

"Well, Mr. White—that's our editor—wouldn't give her back her original job. Lois—she's actually Chlo's cousin!—took over that job. So Chloe got stuck with an assistant's job."

"Ooh… that had to hurt."

"But who do you think she got stuck being an assistant to?"

"Lois? That would be ironic!"

"Oh, no, this irony is much better!" She paused for dramatic effect, making Caitlin want to dip into her powers again… "She's my assistant!"

"No!" Caitlin dismissed.

"Yes! My high school editor is now my inferior assistant! She brings me coffee every morning!"

"Hah!"

"But enough on gloating about Crazy Chloe's position," Michele quickly ended. "Who else were you wondering about?"

"Let's take Lana Lang," Caitlin started, smiling across her soda glass at Michele as if the past ten years hadn't done anything to her. "What ever happened to her?"

----

"Sorry I'm late, guys!" Caitlin hurried into the small office-like room in Jessica's hotel room trying desperately to hold on to her briefcase. The meeting had started five minutes ago without her.

Around the small, circular table, three heads snapped towards her. Jessica, Kelsey, Lexi… Where was Olivia?

"I hope you didn't get too far without me!" Caitlin continued, taking the empty seat and popping her brown leather case wide open.

"No, 'course we wouldn't do that," Jessica said, frowning.

"You ok?" Lexi voiced Jessica's concern.

"Fine," Caitlin replied. "Why?"

"You're much more bubbly today than you were yesterday," Kelsey observed.

"The wonders of lunch with Michele Thompson/soon-to-be Williams," Caitlin said around a smile. "So, where's Livs?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Jessica retorted. "She's running late."

"Ah, what else is new?"

At that moment, Olivia bust in the door like she'd been running. Everyone turned towards her expectantly.

"Gosh, I hate the big city!" she exclaimed. "I ran down to Wal-Mart to get some pens—I broke mine!—and some old wacko pervert guy with pink hair proposed to me! I was like 'EW! GROSS! Not in this lifetime!' and I ran all the way back here!" She shivered down her whole body. "Freak gave me the chills!"

Everyone burst-out laughing.

Caitlin's eyes wandered around the table and she basked in the feel of the laughter.


	4. Teacher

**Woo... This one was written fast... Sorry for the very quick, non-details at the end, but my mom's rushing me to get off, and I have to get this up NOW...**

**Might I suggest that all of my readers go and read "Shaping Clark: The Michele Thompson Story" by Michiri right away? It's another sequel-type deal in this world we built... But alas, more Michele than Caitlin, as you folks might've guessed. :D**

**And one more chapter after this, and I put the Caitlin O'Conner tale to rest. (sigh)

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**Teacher**

Around the top of the fanciful skyscraper revolved a golden globe, etched with the countries of the world in all of their respective places. Also golden was the ribbon that was wound around the globe yet didn't revolve along with it, with the words "Daily Planet" scratched into it. Afternoon sunlight reflected from the gold and made the entire contraption seem _supernatural_… unearthly.

And it spoke to Caitlin's fears and told her to go no further.

But being its normal, oh-so-pesky self, her inner drive forced her forward, and she moved quickly into the building's foyer.

But still the fears gripped Caitlin as she stood there, not wanting to move on to do what she knew she had to.

"Can I help you?" a secretary asked.

Startled, Caitlin stared across the small but decorative foyer at the woman behind the marble counter. For a moment, she looked for words. "Um… I'm looking for Mr. Kent's office?" she finally said.

"He's busy, but up to floor five, left hallway, last door on the right."

"Thank you," Caitlin said, already moving towards the elevator.

_You knew that already, you idiot_, she mentally kicked herself. _Get your head together and stop all of this crappy worrying._

The stairs that were so short in reality seemed to stretch longer in Caitlin's worry.

But soon, she had topped the stairs and was standing at the door with a golden name plate that said "Clark Kent: Investigative Reporter." And after wrestling with her eager-but-worried self, she finally forced herself to knock.

"Come in, Caitlin," Clark called inside the office.

Quickly as not to lose her nerve—where along the line had strong backboned Caitlin become such a nervous wreck of a person?—she turned the handle and hurried herself into Clark's office.

He sat behind his desk with his big, Coke-bottle reading glasses, looking across the back of a laptop computer at her. "I was going to go search you out soon," he said, closing down the laptop. "But it looks like you're itching to come see me instead."

She scoffed at him angrily. "Hey, just so you know, I ain't itching to do anything." Quickly, she got her running anger under control. "I just couldn't leave Metropolis in the stance we're in now. And I'm leaving day after tomorrow, you know."

"Yes, I know," Clark said shortly.

"Oh, now come on," Caitlin growled. "Don't be cold, you idiot. I know you're not happy with my current… 'occupation'—or lack thereof—but please, don't ruin my attempt at apology by acting like this wasn't at least partially your fault."

Clark's eyebrow arched. "My fault?"

"Darn straight!" she exclaimed. "It's as much your fault as it is mine. The only reason I ran out of here was because you being so upset with me broke me in a place I didn't even know existed."

"Alright, I'm sorry," Clark said, rising. "But what did you expect when you—of all people in the universe!—come waltzing back into my life after a decade and tell me that you're not who you were. Caitlin, I adored you for who you were. I basically worshiped you for what you did. I liked you as a friend, but I loved you as a teacher. You were everything I aspired to be, and then I come to find that after everything you'd taught me, you spit in the face of your own teachings to be a pathetic, spineless… normal person!" He was now breathing irregularly with what sounded faintly to Caitlin's ears like held-back sobs. "You were great. And you were strong. Then you let the media break your back and force you down into the ordinary."

Caitlin couldn't stand to look into Clark's eyes anymore. "I know, I know. That was probably the worst mistake I ever made in my entire life. But you know, there's no going back for me. I made my decision and it's over. Psyche-Out's dead."

"There's almost always a way to go back."

Caitlin shook her head firmly. "No. I killed Psyche-Out; she's _dead_ and ain't coming back."

Clark opened his mouth to argue the point, but Caitlin snapped a hand up. "I do _not_ want to hear it!"

He sighed openly and loudly, sinking back into his desk chair. "So nothing I can say will convince you to come back and work in the superhero department?"

"Nothing," Caitlin gruffly answered.

Clark sighed again, and let a silence hang for a few minutes.

_Finally, you get it across to the marvelous "genius"_, Caitlin thought sarcastically into the silence. _Took him long enough to get the point._

Finally, Clark looked back up at Caitlin and spoke.

"You know, at that point in my life when I first met you, you were like everything to me," he said. Even after all these years of being not-quite in tune with emotions, Caitlin could see the pain in Clark's eyes. "Everything I wanted to be, my idol and just… my teacher. Caitlin, you made me what I am. Without you, I could never have been Superman, and I'd still be speeding around doing small-time heroics and wasting away in Smallville."

A wane smile drifted up to Caitlin's lips. "It was a great time in my life that I look back on fondly. I was great once, Clark, and I know I failed that greatness and slipped from the pedestal you held me on—that a lot of people held me on—but that's the way it is. The bigger they are, the harder they fall, they say. And I was big, all high and mighty, and I just _fell_. I fell into the ordinary, and it holds me down to where I cannot climb back up." She paused, then went on rambling. "You know, I have this dream. And it keeps coming back. I dream that these two old women are keeping me hostage. Where they hold me, I can see greatness on the horizon, but I can't get there because of the old women. One looks like me, and the other one has the old time feel of a reporter. And sometimes the reporter one presses on me to leave, but the one like me holds a shotgun and won't let me leave. You can see what it means, Clark. Things are holding me back from heroism."

Clark was quiet for a minute, obviously thinking and debating on what to say. "You haven't lost your wisdom and way with words, I see," he said finally. "Just a certain sense of judgment."

"Maybe, or perhaps it was just a point of view that I lost."

"That was one of the things I always treasured, you know," Clark said at length. "Your point of view was spectacular, Caitlin. You saw everything in a great light that was neither naïve nor pessimistic. You saw things for what they were, no matter how they were hidden."

"I stopped seeing the world that way not long after I gave up heroics," Caitlin said quietly, faintly remembering the times when she was what she should have been. "I got a little more pessimistic, I think, but that's what age will do to you." She smiled lightly. "I seem to remember a rather naïve Smallville farm boy who's not quite as gullible these days."

Clark grinned. "It wasn't just age that did that, you know. It was a certain blonde woman named Michele."

Caitlin's smile widened. "Really? Did she shed some light on the very mysterious and very naïve life of a Mr. Clark Kent after my departure from Smallville?"

He nodded, and once again, the pair lapsed into silence, but this time it was far more comfortable.

"Speaking of Michele," Caitlin said after a while, "she invited me and the 'board' to dinner tonight so we could meet her fiancée. I'm sure we could squeeze another man into the mix. _Cameron_," she said after a minute of trying to remember Michele's fiancée's name, "shouldn't be alone with six women. Slightly dangerous mix for boring stew, I'd say. Seven-thirty at the Applebee's downtown."

Clark nodded. "I'd be happy to come."

"Since when did I ask how you'd feel about coming?" Caitlin scoffed.

"Since you told me about the dinner," Clark coolly retorted to her smart-alecky comment.

"What?" Caitlin exclaimed. "No: '_Uh, Caitlin! Stop with the sarcasm_!'? You are _not_ Clark Kent! What did you do with him, you_ impostor_?"

He smiled. "I'm the same old guy, just deadened to irritation at sarcasm by you, age and a slightly mean lady named Lois Lane."

Caitlin smiled. "Well, that suits me very well. Your opposition back then was… annoying."

She took a glance at her watch and blew out an exasperated sigh. "Ok, now I know how old this is already getting, but I've gotta run."

"Already?"

"Yeah… The finalization with the publisher's in less than an hour, so me and the group have to finalize our plans."

Clark nodded. "Ok, see you tonight."

"See you when my magazine's bi-regional!" she said confidently before ducking out the door. This time when she went down the stairs and out the door, the stairs seemed shorter, the foyer seemed brighter and her heart was a little lighter.

But her head was a bit more clogged, pressed again towards becoming Psyche-Out by another outside force that had a lot of pull.

**-----**

Clark was much… happier by the time Caitlin left. Despite all of her protests, he was almost certain that he was making progress with bringing her back into the superhero fold. Maybe, he might even have her stubborn insistence broken by tonight.

A light knock came at the door to his office.

Sighing, he called, "Come in, if you must."

Michele quickly popped in the door. "Did Caitlin just leave?"

Clark nodded.

"To chat?"

Again, he nodded.

"How was the talk?" she asked. "You know, was it just sort of apologies, was it you convincing her back, did she leave just as angry?"

"It was mostly egocentric prattle on her side," he said. "She's very concerned about herself and her problem, even though she doesn't realize it. Obsessed, almost. And yes, we both apologized and I subtly told her what she had been as a hero, and she admitted that she fell, hard."

"Did you really get anywhere?"

"Yes, actually. I'd say this conversation was probably very fateful. I think I may have just planted the last seed we need to push her back into greatness."

Michele's mood—which in Clark's experience was almost always jovial—was now brighter than it had been. "Oh, good, good, good! She's being an idiot, trapping herself in her own doubts, but we'll get her up to heroism yet!"

"Do we need to consult our other accomplices now?"

"Yes," Michele said, rubbing her hands together like a mad scientist. "They'll both be happy with the progress… And maybe we can have her free of her bonds by tonight…"

"And I'll help," Clark input. "Caitlin invited me along."

"Ah. Well, we knew from the start that we couldn't get her openly… So maybe if we all work on her subtly, we can have her free before she leaves Metropolis."

Clark smiled widely. "She'll be Psyche-Out again."

"Not just that, she'll be herself—good ol' Caitlin O'Conner—again," Michele said somewhat sadly. "We can see she isn't who she should be, and she isn't… herself."

Clark nodded as Michele's words put a slight damper on his mood. "You know," he said at length, "Caitlin told me something really odd today. She told me about a dream she has. She dreams two old ladies are holding her hostage: one that looks like herself, and the other that looks like a reporter. She says she keeps on having it." He laughed lightly. "She's so stubbornly blindsided herself that she doesn't realize what it means. She doesn't see that one is herself, and the other's the media. She says she keeps trying to break free, but can't because they're holding on."

Michele nodded. "That's Caitlin for you: driven, but holding herself back."

"Let's just hope we can break her free."

**----**

"Hello, Cameron, it's nice to meet you," Caitlin said, shaking the man's hand.

Cameron Williams was a fairly tall man—about the same height as Caitlin, being just under six feet—with classic, handsome features including light brown eyes. His dark blonde hair was cropped short in the military style and even at first handshake, Caitlin could tell that he was a reserved man.

"Nice to meet you," he said. "Michele has spoken very highly of you since I met her."

"Seems a lot of people tend to do that," Jessica inserted from behind Caitlin.

Caitlin sent a withering look at her friend over her shoulder, but all that did was make all four of them—Jessica, Kelsey, Olivia and Lexi—smile.

In turn they all shook Cameron's hand—and he soon insisted that they all just call him "Cam"—and sat around the table, waiting for ever-late Clark Kent.

So the conversation naturally picked up with him.

"Can Clark ever make it anywhere on time?" Lexi asked.

"No," Michele answered. "He's got a terminal case of procrastination. Makes him late for everything."

"And it hasn't gotten him fired yet?" Kelsey inquired.

"No, he's always got some big story in hand that puts him back in Mr. White's good graces," Michele replied. "He's just really lucky, or really insightful—I've yet to figure out which."

Caitlin smiled as she spotted Mr. Genius Procrastinator himself walking up. "And speak of the slow-poke himself! Hey, do you want me to get over there and push him towards the table so we don't have to wait for five years?"

"I heard that!" Clark protested, unconsciously picking up his pace. "And I am _not_ slow!" He took the last seat at the table. "I just get… distracted."

"Ah, did something really shiny catch your eye?" Caitlin asked.

That erected several laughs around the table and another protest from Clark.

And so the dinner set into a nice little rhythm. Caitlin talked and joked, mostly keeping the conversation away from herself, no matter how many times her friends tried to subtly steer it that way. That was a tag-team effort by Michele, Clark, Jessica and Olivia. Cam sat back quietly and didn't input much at all. Kelsey was perceptive enough to pick up that everything wasn't quite alright and sat fairly quietly, but Lexi just kept on chatting and unconsciously breathing life into areas that Caitlin strongly attempted to kill.

An hour after it had started, the dinner was terribly interrupted. The culprit was a fiasco going on outside the restaurant in the street and gunshot echoes and screams could be heard inside the restaurant.

Since their table was near a street-facing window and therefore the doors, the group was up from the table and out on the sidewalk in seconds, led by Clark and Caitlin—both with superhero habits, even if Caitlin had attempted to abandon hers—and Cam, with his Marine training. But the others, to their credit, were not far behind.

Caitlin's eyes took it in quickly.

Four men, faces hidden by absurd masks, stood armed, facing a limousine that already had a flat tire with an obvious bullet hole, and was thus unable to drive off. The back seat's occupants were both standing with arms held wide and up above their heads just outside the back door. And the armed men were threatening to kill those two if they didn't hand over any treasures.

Even as Caitlin took all of this in, she lost Clark to the astounded crowd that was pressing all around the sidewalk.

Without thought, she broke her self-enforced bonds and telepathically located him. But even as she did, he left Clark Kent behind for Superman.

She wrestled with herself about helping while Superman saved the day. And by the time the whole ordeal was over, she'd made a decision.

* * *

_**Muahaha... One last cliffie before it's all over and through.**_


	5. The Prodigal Hero Returns

**_AH! I'm done with this story now, it seems. (sigh) It's been a blast!_**

**_And sorry in advance for the shortness and suckiness of this chappie, but I was rushing to get it done._**

**_Oh, and review!_

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**The Prodigal Hero Returns**

The decision was made. Over, done. And that was it: Psyche-Out's eternal destiny had been decided. It had been a long night of Caitlin's constant self-wrestling, but she was done with a decision ten years in the making.

And now she was ready to inform Jessica, Olivia, Michele and Clark. The four leading experts on Psyche-Out, it would seem. Superman and only three normal people that knew his secret.

The four plotters.

She'd managed to get them all into Clark's office to give them the news, and she knew they were all anticipating the wrong answer from her, making them all fidgety. She was happy to play around with them and make them think the wrong thing of her… It was just too downright fun.

"Now," she said sternly, pacing to and fro against one wall while they all stood on the opposite side of the room, "I know the game you've all been playing. I know what you've been doing: I'm not stupid."

The fidgeting intensified as the four realized they'd been caught in the act, and all eyes quickly averted. Somehow, they all managed to find interest in the floor, ceiling, walls or some obscure speck of dirt on a chair arm. Feet shuffled on the carpet, hands gripped chair arms or knotted around each other, legs bounced back and forth and

To this, Caitlin just smiled—which none of her friends could see, as they all stared at the ground. "And that's why I have you here now. I want to tell you what I think about this whole business." She paused, and guiltily, all four of her friends raised their eyes to her face.

"Thank you!" she surprised them all. "You all pushed me back into what I should be. I see now how stupid I've been—for ten whole years, I've been so, so _stupid_!—and how you guys showed me what I did. Thank you!"

"You mean—?" Olivia was the first to ask.

"Psyche-Out's **_back_**!" Caitlin exclaimed.

All three of the women shrieked happily and engulfed Caitlin in hugs, while Clark hung back and just grinned brightly from ear to ear. After the shrieking and intensive hugging stopped, Caitlin rushed towards Clark and happily hugged him as well.

When she stopped her excited gasping and they parted, Caitlin quickly asked, "So, how soon can I get back into things? I mean, can I go on a patrol with you soon, oh, please say it's so!" She knew she sounded so very immature, but at the moment, she didn't care and didn't rightly mind if anyone called her childish, because that's what her glee was: childlike.

"Well, I can go ahead and bump Superman's next patrol up so we can head out within the hour…"

"Perfect!" Caitlin exclaimed. Then her face suddenly fell. "Oh, crap! I don't have a superhero costume anymore… It was out within the week I decided to give up Psyche-Out for good. Oh, that won't do!"

Clark grinned. "Oh, I have a solution to that problem. One that I think you're going to love."

----

Clark was right. Caitlin did love the solution.

At the moment, she walked the halls of the Justice League space station headquarters beside a fully costumed Superman. Her eager eyes hungrily took in every detail and her filing cabinet of a mind remembered every hero she passed. Physical appearance, mental state and super-power were all written into her "files."

And by the time Superman had led her into the wide council room, Caitlin had ninety seven files ready at any moment to spring up and refresh her memory.

But the council chamber made her add five more, for a current total of one hundred and two. In the room, sitting around a large, odd-shaped table, were the original members of the Justice League—except the departed Hawk Girl—and now leaders of the seriously enlarged organization.

First was the Green Lantern, sitting stiff-backed in his chair, hands folded on the tabletop before him. Next was the Martian Manhunter—or J'onn—sitting equally stiffly and silently, watching Caitlin with glowing red eyes against pale blue-green skin. Next was Wonder Woman, one of Caitlin's personal idols. She stood like Caitlin for feminine power, and could gracefully kick butt. Her blue eyes watched carefully but warmer than either the Manhunter or Lantern's. Then was the Flash. In contrast with all of the others, he lounged carelessly in his chair, elbows on the table and face resting on his hands as if terribly bored. Lastly was Batman, dark, cold and unfeeling. He sat with arms crossed over his chest, and staring harshly at Caitlin.

Superman took his seat at the table, and quickly began introductions.

"Council, meet Caitlin O'Conner, better known as Psyche-Out," he said. "She's been a dear friend of mine for eleven years, and actually pushed me into heroics. She was acting as a superhero when openly, there were none, but she… gave up heroics for a while. Recently, she has returned to our ranks, and now she wants to be part of our League."

Caitlin nodded her agreement.

"Well, as Superman may or may not have told you, Psyche-Out, we require a demonstration," Wonder Woman said. "If you'll please, show us what you can do."

Caitlin smiled. _Gladly_, she thought silently.

Her eyes searched the room for loose things, and quickly, they set on pens on the tabletop. Lifting herself into the air to demonstrate she could, Caitlin also levitated every one of the six pens sitting on the table. When she read that no one was impressed, she also levitated the table up right in front of them until it was ten feet over their collective heads.

But when she set everything back in its place, no one was really interested, except Clark, as always.

And that set her mouth into a grim, angered frown.

"All well and nice," Flash said distractedly, "but we don't need another levitator."

Only Caitlin's firm determination kept her frown from becoming an angered growl. "I can levitate anything within reasonable size, you know," she said through tightened teeth. "Not just pens and tables."

"Can you do anything else?" asked the Green Lantern.

"Of course," Caitlin said. Her attention turned to the Flash, at whom she was currently angry for his utter disinterest. So easily, she flicked her awareness over his—even though the skill seemed a tad rusty from disuse—and invaded his thoughts. "Oh, you're daydreaming of doughnuts and thinking about running down to the cafeteria to get one, aren't you, Bart?"

Suddenly, the Flash was sitting up straight and interested.

And Caitlin was smiling. "Yes, I can read your thoughts."

All of the superheroes nodded.

"That is a unique talent," the Martian said. His red eyes swept the table, and met nods. "And as you have Superman himself to speak for you, we hereby accept you into the Justice League."

"Welcome," each of the other members replied in turn.

Caitlin just smiled.

----

Olivia, Jessica and Michele all intently fixed their eyes on the TV in Michele's apartment, all undoubtedly excited. Kelsey and Lexi were there too, but both were oblivious as they watched the Metropolis News, which showed a new superhero flying with Superman over the city.

"The newest addition to the Justice League is called 'Psyche-Out' and is reportedly telepathic," the news anchorman said. "She was seen and filmed earlier flying over Metropolis with none other than Superman himself."

The camera shot shifted and showed the hero standing on the edge of a building.

Olivia smiled at the tight lavender costume accented by dark blue gloves, boots, collar, belt and mask—all provided by the Justice League. The emblem on the hero's chest was one Olivia recognized easily: a huge, entangled P-O, standing for Psyche-Out. And the long black hair that hung down the woman's back was also recognizable to Psyche-Out's best friend.

"Welcome back, Psyche-Out!" Jessica exclaimed.

_And welcome back Caitlin O'Conner_, Olivia thought, smiling silently. _We've missed you._

**THE END**


End file.
